


If I Could Change Your Mind

by tookumade



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Training Camp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-06 07:15:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5407778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tookumade/pseuds/tookumade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>“I’m kind of excited to meet him,” Bokuto says, roughly an hour before Karasuno are scheduled to arrive. “He sounds interesting.”</p>
  <p>Kuroo raises an eyebrow at him. “I just told you that there’s not a lot about him that stands out—how is that interesting?”</p>
  <p>“You’ve told me <i>a lot</i> about how he apparently doesn’t stand out,” Bokuto replies easily. “You don’t usually talk about someone so much."</p>
  <p>(Or, Sawamura Daichi shows up like a breath of fresh air, and Kuroo Tetsurou doesn't stand a chance.)</p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	If I Could Change Your Mind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WhyTheHandbasket](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhyTheHandbasket/gifts).



> Happy Haikyuu!! Winter Holidays exchange! :D

There’s just a few things Kuroo got out of first meeting Sawamura Daichi: he’s craftier than he lets on; he’s good at volleyball and excellent at receives; and… that’s… it?  
  
They hadn’t spoken much during the Karasuno versus Nekoma match. He had seen Sawamura joke around with Kai a little and Kai had laughed, so Sawamura also had a sense of humour despite his rigid sort of demeanour…  
  
Kuroo supposes he’s being a little unfair. Maybe he’s just feeling competitive—it’s rare that he meets other captains on the same level of craftiness that he has. Honestly, it’s kind of refreshing, even if it does make him feel like they have an unspoken score to settle, although _what_ sort of score exactly, is hard to find an answer for.  
  
Either way, the announcement that Karasuno would be joining their annual training camp had made Kuroo stand a little straighter and his mind had immediately jumped to Sawamura, and he keeps telling himself it’s because of that weird competitiveness, but maybe, just _maaaybe_ , Kuroo thinks it’d just be nice to see him again, but he refuses to admit this, even to himself.  
  
(“Stop thinking for a few minutes,” Kenma had said on the walk home, not looking up from his phone. “I can hear your brain buzzing. You’re thinking too loudly.”)  
  
“I’m kind of excited to meet him,” Bokuto says in Shinzen’s second gymnasium, roughly an hour before Karasuno are scheduled to arrive. “He sounds interesting.”  
  
Kuroo raises an eyebrow at him. “I just told you that there’s not a lot about him that stands out—how is that interesting?”  
  
“You’ve told me _a lot_ about how he apparently doesn’t stand out,” Bokuto replies easily. “You don’t usually talk about someone so much. Well, aside from Kenma, but that’s _Kenma_ , you know?”  
  
Kuroo squints at him, thinks back to all the times he’s mentioned Sawamura and… okay, it was definitely more than once, but he doesn’t talk about him _that_ much, does he?  
  
Bokuto snorts when Kuroo doesn’t say anything. Kuroo throws a volleyball at him, which he dodges easily.  
  
And if the next hour passes by at what feels like an agonisingly slow pace, and if Kuroo misses a few more receives than he usually does, and if he collides into Yamamoto purely because he was spacing out and wasn’t watching where he was going, well… it _definitely_ doesn’t have anything to do with Karasuno arriving soon.  
  
Karasuno’s mini-bus pulls up in Shinzen High’s grounds and the Nekoma team goes out during their break to greet them. The Karasuno players file out of the bus raggedly, with Sawamura at the head. His face breaks into a grin—good-natured, warm, genuine, Kuroo tries _not_ to think—when he sees the Nekoma players, and he approaches them and offers his hand to Kuroo first, which Kuroo takes somewhat automatically.  
  
“It’s good to see you again,” says Sawamura.  
  
“Likewise.” Kuroo smirks. “Ready to be defeated continuously again?”  
  
“Oh my god Kuroo, you’re so embarrassing,” Yaku jokingly stage-whispers beside him, and Kuroo mock-bristles at him. Sawamura just laughs, and Kuroo thinks that maybe, maybe, they’re off to a good start.  


 

* * *

 

  
Kuroo isn’t sure whether the other schools are subconsciously wanting to show off to a “country school” for the sake of city pride, or whether Karasuno’s spirit is just really that infectious—either way, their presence is a refreshingly welcome addition to the training camp. The Karasuno players get along well with everyone else, and they fit in with the training camp’s schedules, training drills, and practice matches easily, although Kuroo supposes it’s not all that difficult to begin with. Them being here somehow makes it a little easier to concentrate, and it’s not long before Kuroo finally eases back into his typical routine of excellent receives and teasing grins when he blocks Bokuto’s spikes.  
  
“You guys seem… different, since we last saw you,” says Kuroo to Sawamura during a drink break, sliding down against the wall to sit next to him.  
  
Sawamura looks over at him and asks, “Do we?’  
  
“Yeah. I mean, I know what happened at the Inter-High, and obviously, that’s gotta hurt, but I’ve seen defeated teams train after a major loss, and it feels different with you guys, somehow.”  
  
“I guess that’s a compliment.”  
  
“Sort of?”  
  
Sawamura flicks restlessly at his shoelaces for a moment, before asking him, “What do you know about Seijou? Aoba Jousai?”  
  
“Aoba Jousai?” Kuroo shrugs. “Strong team. Best high school setter in Miyagi, I think? I don’t know much apart from the basics.”  
  
“Well… Seijou are… really incredible,” says Sawamura slowly. “It was a hell of a match. I’ve played a lot of matches before, but never like that. We were so close to winning and we gave _everything_ we had, but it wasn’t enough, and it… stings. A lot. So I guess we’re still feeling that.”  
  
Kuroo hums thoughtfully. “Makes sense, but I get a different feeling.”  
  
“How so?”  
  
“I feel like… your guys are even more fired up, but are quieter about it. Calmer and more _together_ , like they _know_ what needs to be done, and are just focusing on that. Like, your lot have already started evolving, and it’s only going to continue.” Kuroo grins at him. “It’s a little scary, if I’m being honest. But it’s obvious none of you have given up, so that’s good.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
Sawamura smiles and tilts his head back to lean against the wall behind him. “Well, we can't keep feeling sorry for ourselves. We have to keep moving forward.”  
  
“Nekomata-sensei was really happy when you accepted his invitation to come here.”  
  
“How about you?”  
  
Kuroo raises his eyebrows at him. “What about me?”  
  
“Are you happy to see us?” When Kuroo opens his mouth and closes it again. Sawamura quickly adds, “To train with us, I mean? Well, we’re still amateurs compared to you guys, and there’s probably not a lot you’ll learn from us, but–”  
  
“Yeah, I’m happy,” says Kuroo, and Sawamura blinks in surprise. “I mean… yeah, I’m really glad you guys joined the training camp.”  
  
Kuroo contemplates throwing himself in the path of one of Goura’s serves to knock himself out, but resists when he sees Sawamura looking kind of... happy? There’s a funny little spasm in the pit of Kuroo’s stomach at the sight of Sawamura’s smile, and they look away from each other hastily, like embarrassed junior high school kids. Kai mercifully calls Kuroo away to discuss some tactics and Karasuno’s libero asks Sawamura for spiking practice, and neither say anything else to each other for the rest of the day.

 

 

* * *

 

  
It’s finally dinnertime on Karasuno’s second night at the training camp, and Kuroo, sitting with Ogano and Goura, looks up from his meal to see Bokuto dragging Sawamura by the back of his shirt collar to sit with the captains, his food tray balancing haphazardly in his free hand.  
  
“This is the captains’ table, and you’re part of the gang, Sawamura!” Bokuto is saying happily. “Hey, budge over, guys.”  
  
“Move your tray, Ogano.”  
  
“You move _yours_ and then I can move _mine_ , Fishlips!”  
  
Ogano and Goura bicker as they all shuffle their trays around. Sawamura takes the empty seat opposite Kuroo, and Kuroo feels a funny little swoop in his stomach (which is totally because he’s hungry and not because of anything else, for god’s sake).  
  
The captains chatter away easily. Bokuto quickly launches into a ramble about how amazing Karasuno’s setter-and-Shrimpy’s quick attack is, and Sawamura tells them the story of how those two met, got off on the completely wrong foot (“I still have nightmares about the vice principal’s wig flying off, sometimes…”), yet still somehow came up with it. His demeanour is that of exasperation, but he can’t hide the obvious pride in his voice. He has a small smile on his face, and Kuroo tries not to think about how warm it looks as he focuses his attention on Goura telling his story of how he clashed with Ubugawa’s previous ace until they learned to get along. Ogano joins in with a story of accidentally knocking out their club advisor one day with a mis-aimed serve (“Yeah, but did he have a wig on?” says Sawamura), and Bokuto proudly says that they’ve never had those sorts of mishaps before in his time with Fukurodani, and that it’s probably mostly because of Akaashi.  
  
Eventually, their talk turns to this being Sawamura’s first trip out of Miyagi.  
  
“I guess it’s because we’re still in the suburbs, but it’s quieter than I expected,” he admits. “Not in a bad way, though. Oh, but I think you guys have a lot more mosquitoes around here.”  
  
“A mosquito-free life…” Ogano sighs dreamily. “Maybe I should move to Miyagi.”  
  
“Hey, I said we have less mosquitoes, not no mosquitoes.”  
  
“Will you guys be sight-seeing up here?” Goura asks through a mouthful of curry. Sawamura shakes his head.  
  
“I wish. We don’t really have the time or funds. After this trip, we’re going home… and knowing my guys, we’ll get straight back to practising the moment we arrive.” He sighs, but fondly, and then pauses before adding with a mock overly-serious look on his face, “I do want to see the Skytree sometime, though.”  
  
The others snicker good-naturedly into their food, and he grins. Kuroo looks up at the wrong time, catches Sawamura’s eye, and looks away a little too quickly.  
  
“We could take you there. We could try sneaking away after practice later this week,” Bokuto is saying thoughtfully, and Kuroo forces himself to pay attention to him instead.  
  
“What, and hitch-hike over?” says Ogano with a snort. “We’re not exactly walking distance, you know.”  
  
“We could be!” says Bokuto. “You could walk _anywhere_ if you put your mind to it!”  
  
“I’m so sorry I ever doubted your ability to walk on water,” says Kuroo with a grin. Sawamura snickers, and Kuroo tries not to feel too pleased.  
  
“I could _so_ walk on water!”  
  
“You’re a pain-in-the-ass owl, Bokuto, not a duck. Don’t get confused. How would we explain things to Akaashi if we had to drag you back, half-drowned?”  
  
“I can swim!”  
  
“Nekoma’s the closest to Tokyo,” says Goura to Sawamura over them, nodding to Kuroo, who jumps a little. “If you ever visit them, he can take you.”  
  
“Don’t just offer me up like that!” Kuroo splutters.  
  
“Make him pay for your travel expenses too, like a good host,” Ogano chimes in.  
  
“I’m right here, you jerks!”  
  
“And make sure he takes you right up to the highest observation deck,” Bokuto adds. Kuroo throws his scrunched up napkin at him, but Sawamura is grinning again.  
  
“I’ll remember that next time I’m in Tokyo,” he says, and for whatever reason, Kuroo is then thinking about his favourite ramen place a few blocks away from the Skytree and how that would be a good place to take him to have lunch, and–  
  
“Yep, he’s thinking about it,” says Goura. He slaps a highfive with the others, including Sawamura.  
  
Kuroo snorts. “If I make a good host, it’ll be because you guys are terrible ones,” he says dryly.  
  
“I’m _wounded_ ,” says Ogano with a dramatic slap of his hand over his chest. Bokuto pats his shoulder sympathetically.  
  
“I’ll be counting on you, Kuroo,” says Sawamura.  
  
“Yeah, yeah,” says Kuroo, poking at his meal, but unable to hide a grin.

 

 

* * *

 

  
He notices all sorts of things about Sawamura. Small things, like the way he gestures with his water bottle to make a point when he talks to his teammates; the way he taps the toe of each shoe twice on the floor after he pulls them on; the way he stands a little taller whenever he speaks to his kouhai and coach, but relaxes a bit more with his fellow third years.  
  
Not-so-small things, like Sawamura’s _really nice arms_ which Kuroo swears he shows off on purpose because who the hell rolls up their t-shirts sleeves over their shoulders like _that?_ (Yaku snorts and says, “ _You_ do that sometimes!”); the way he treats each training session like it's the last time he’ll ever play a match; the way he directs his kouhai with everything Kuroo thinks a good captain should have: firmly, patiently, sometimes a little exasperatedly because he's only human, but it's never with any malice.  
  
Maybe Kuroo relates to him a little. Maybe he even picks up a lesson or two (Yamamoto seems to listen to him a little more these days; he’s not sure if it’s related). Maybe he just likes looking at Sawamura’s arms, and who could blame him?  
  
Okay, so Sawamura’s got a nice face and a nicer smile. Kuroo can freely admit that. And, okay, he’s not plain and unremarkable like Kuroo first thought, and Kuroo can freely admit that he’s wrong too, just like he can freely admit that he quickly realises Sawamura is great company and fun to joke around with, and he’s got a relaxing sort of presence about him which is really nice after a long day of training, and an admirable sort of dignity as his team are continuously beaten in their practice matches, and those _arms_ and that _smile_ and–  
  
Oh, man. Kuroo is so, _so_ screwed.  


 

* * *

 

  
“Shouyou says that he really looks up to Sawamura-san.”  
  
Kuroo jumps about a mile and tears his eyes away from the Karasuno versus Shinzen practice match to look down at Kenma, who had silently stepped beside him.  
   
“That’s,” says Kuroo. He pauses before adding, “nice.”  
  
“You should stop staring; you’re going to get beaned over the head by a stray ball because you weren’t paying attention.”  
  
Kuroo makes an indignant scoffing noise. “Coming from you! And anyway, I wasn’t staring at him.” Kenma actually snorts. Kuroo looks scandalised. “I can’t believe this… my own best friend whom I’ve known for years doesn’t believe me…”  
  
“It’s _because_ I’ve known you for years that I don’t believe you.”  
  
“That's… okay, touché.”  
  
They exchange glances before looking back over at the Karasuno versus Shinzen match, just in time to—conveniently—see Sawamura score a point with a spike against two of Shinzen’s blockers. Kenma’s knowing silence is slightly stifling; Kuroo can feel himself beginning to crack.  
  
“I wasn’t staring at him,” he mutters, and he knows how unconvincing he sounds.  
  
“I haven’t seen you like this before,” Kenma says at last. “You being so interested in someone, I mean. People rarely faze you like Sawamura-san has.”  
  
“I am not fazed.”  
  
“I think it’s good for you. It’s different.”  
  
“Are you listening to me?”  
  
“And he seems like a good person, if his team’s reactions are anything to go by.”  
  
“‘Kozume Kenma’? Never heard of him in my life…”  
  
“The training camp ends soon,” Kenma continues, and his words make Kuroo stiffen a little. “After that, they’ll be up here for a few weekends before their official matches, but if you keep hesitating, who knows when you’ll get a chance to say something?”  
  
“I’m not hesitating over anything.”  
  
“You’re more stubborn than you’ll admit to being, you know.”  
  
“Why are _you_ so interested?” Kuroo asks. “This isn’t like _you_ , now that I think about.”  
  
Kenma falls into thoughtful silence again as they watch Karasuno and Shinzen jump and block and spike. Shinzen are leading twenty points to seventeen– oops, twenty-one now. Sawamura claps his hands sharply and shouts something to his team. Kuroo doesn’t catch what he said, but it was probably something encouraging, given the way his teammates shout back what seems like an enthusiastic “ _YEAH!_ ”  
  
“You don’t ask for much,” Kenma says suddenly, and Kuroo looks at him in surprise. “You're always helping people without expecting anything in return. So having something like this for yourself is… nice. You deserve something that makes you happy.”  
  
Kuroo's jaw falls open and his eyes widen. “Did… Did you just say something kind about me?”  
  
Kenma turns towards the gymnasium exit. “I’m going to the washroom.”  
  
“ _Kenma!_ I didn’t know you cared so much!”  
  
“I do not.”  
  
“Do too.”  
  
“I do not.”  
  
Kuroo is grinning widely as Kenma backhands his shoulder lightly, and he doesn’t miss the tiny smile on his face that Kenma can’t quite hide.  
  
“Do too.”  
  
“I do not.”  
  


 

* * *

 

  
The temperature keeps climbing as the schools battle their way through the camp. Kuroo, Bokuto, and Akaashi take Lev and Karasuno’s Shrimpy and Glasses under their wing for extra training in the evenings—  
  
(“Get it? ‘Wing’!”  
  
“I made that joke last week, Bokuto!”  
  
“Oh, right. But it doesn’t work for you ‘cos you’re a cat. Hey, Akaashi–”  
  
“No, Bokuto-san.”  
  
“ _Akaashi!_ ”)  
  
—and it’s a good distraction. Shrimpy is interesting and fun to train with and his enthusiasm is infectious; Glasses is fun to annoy. Watching them both apply their training in their practice matches in the daytime makes Kuroo feel like a proud parent.  
  
“Don’t forget,” Kuroo is telling Shrimpy—Hinata—during a drink break, “when you’re aiming for a kill block, try to keep your fingertips forward.”  
  
“Oh, right, got it!” Shrimp—Hinata—says.  
  
“You’re improving though, so keep it up.”  
  
“Thank you!”  
  
They lapse into silence for a handful of seconds, drinking their water and watching Sawamura elbow their tall bearded third year—Azumane, wasn’t it?—in the ribs for not drinking enough water. He uses actions with him a lot more than he does with his kouhai, Kuroo notes. Occasionally there’s the ruffling of hair (or lack of, if it’s Karasuno’s baldy wing spiker) but there’s a lot more one-sided play-fighting with Azumane.  
  
Kuroo tries not to wonder too long about whether or not he and Sawamura would ever be comfortable enough around each other to play-fight like that.  
  
“Your captain’s pretty interesting,” says Kuroo in what he hopes is a nonchalant voice. Shri—Hinata nods eagerly.  
  
“He’s _awesome_ ,” he says. “In our matches, he’s always like _fwaah_ with receives–”  
  
“Fwaah?”  
  
“–and _wha-bam_ with his spikes!” Shrimpy— _Hinata_ , for god’s sake—continues like Kuroo hadn’t interrupted, swinging his arm in the air and miming hitting a toss.  
  
“Somehow, that makes sense,” says Kuroo. “So he’s really reliable, huh?”  
  
“Yeah! I always feel a lot better knowing that he’s on the court with us.” Shrimpy—ah what the heck, he’s just Shrimpy now—then squints up at him suspiciously. “Y-You’re not trying to get secret information out of me, are you?! I’ll never talk! You can’t make me!”  
  
Kuroo cracks a wicked grin. “Oh, _really?_ ” he jokes, looming over him.  
  
“Hinata!” Sawamura’s voice makes both Kuroo and Shrimpy jump and they look up at him approaching them. “Suga’s calling for you to practise spikes with– oi, Kuroo, are you picking on my kouhai?”  
  
“Who, me?” says Kuroo, snickering. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”  
  
“I’m off!” Shrimpy dashes towards Sugawara on the other side of the court, leaving the two of them behind. Kuroo half-wishes he had stayed.  
  
“I was joking about picking on–” Sawamura says.  
  
“I’ll never get over how fast–” Kuroo says at the same time.  
  
They stop and stare at each other in surprise.  
  
“Yeah, I know you were joking–”  
  
“Yeah, he’s super fast and–”  
  
They stop and stare again, and then break out into laughter, shaking their heads and giving up on talking for the moment. It’s easy and comfortable and Sawamura has a really nice laugh, and maybe that’s the moment when Kuroo finally, _finally_ realises that he didn’t stand a chance from the get-go.  
  
“I’m glad you guys came up here,” he says.  
  
“I’m glad your coach invited us,” says Sawamura. “I’m honestly not really sure what we would’ve done by ourselves… I mean, we’d train, obviously, but not like this. So… thanks.”  
  
Well… that wasn’t what Kuroo meant, but, well, it works.  
  
“It’s not a problem,” he mumbles. “Definitely not a problem.”  


 

* * *

 

  
“Do you celebrate Christmas in Miyagi?” asks Bokuto seriously over breakfast at the captain’s table, two days from the end of the training camp. Sawamura stares at him, face completely blank with only a twitch in his clenched jaw giving him away. Bokuto looks increasingly ready to burst into explanation the more Sawamura holds off.  
  
“Christmas?” Sawamura finally repeats, blinking confusedly. “What’s that?”  
  
“ _Whaaat?_ You don’t know what Christmas is?! It’s a celebration in December where–”  
  
Sawamura’s pokerface falls apart when Kuroo spits out his orange juice as he bursts out laughing. Bokuto’s mouth falls open as Sawamura wheezes “I’m sorry, the opportunity was right there, I’m really sorry–”, and for a second, Kuroo thinks he’s about to go into Dejected Mode, but–  
  
“ _Youuu!_ ” Bokuto jumps onto him and grabs him in a headlock. “I actually believed you! I was getting ready to feel all sorry for you countryfolk and everything! KUROO, STOP LAUGHING!”  
  
It’s only when Naoi-san walks by and patiently reminds them to set a better example for their kouhai, that they calm down. Kuroo and Sawamura catch each other’s eye and grin at each other. When Bokuto runs off to sulk to his team (“ _Sarukui!_ You told me they don’t celebrate Christmas, you jackass!”), Sawamura holds out a fist for a fistbump, and Kuroo returns it. Shortly after, Karasuno’s libero pokes his head into the cafeteria and calls for Sawamura, who jumps up from the table, says a quick ‘see you later’ to Kuroo, and then jogs out after putting away his breakfast tray. Kuroo watches them go.  
  
He fits into Kuroo’s life like he’s always belonged there.  
  
Kuroo knows it’s ridiculous—keeps telling himself that they’ve only spent a short amount of time in the same vicinity, surrounded by their teammates, coaches, teachers, and managers. The more he thinks about all this logically, the sillier it sounds, but he can’t explain it, can’t use logic, can’t explain why seeing Sawamura every day makes him feel warm in ways that have nothing to do with the outside heat, why laughing with him feels so different to laughing with other people, why being around him feels familiar and just so right.  
  
Well, he _can_ explain it, he just doesn’t want to.  
  
Maybe Kenma's right… no, he’s _probably_ right; maybe Kuroo is fazed, maybe he’s hesitating, and maybe Sawamura is good for him. Maybe Kuroo is being more stubborn than he realises.  
  
Either way, liking someone the way he does right now… was that okay? Would Sawamura want to focus on training for his prefecture’s Spring High tournament? Probably, but he also seemed too reliable and composed to let his personal life clash with volleyball things. Someone like Sawamura would be able to juggle them well enough…  
  
Of course, this was even assuming that he felt the same way about Kuroo.  
  
That thought makes Kuroo abruptly down the rest of his juice, put away his breakfast tray, and then leave the cafeteria to begin his own day of training. He’s getting nowhere thinking about all this, but his feelings can wait, while training can’t. He has to go stop Yaku from kicking Lev’s ass for one reason or another, or stop Yamamoto from making a fool of himself in front of Karasuno's managers, or maybe he’ll go annoy Shrimpy and Glasses, or…  
  
Yeah, he’s hesitating again.  


 

* * *

 

  
While the wait for Karasuno to arrive at the training camp had seemed agonisingly long, the end of the training camp seems to be approaching agonisingly quickly, and before Kuroo can fully register the timeline, it is the end of the last day. He wishes it weren’t—wishes they could do it all over again.  
  
_We have to keep moving forward,_ Sawamura had told him. Right; that could apply here as well. Kuroo smiles a little wryly to himself as he steps outside with everyone else to see the barbeques that the coaches had organised for them. Unwittingly, he falls into step beside Sawamura, who grins at him, and it feels so normal these days that he doesn’t think too much about it anymore. Nekomata-sensei makes a short speech before inviting them all to eat, and it’s chaos from there. Kuroo wouldn’t have it any other way.  
  
He battles Bokuto in the meat scramble (and loses), joins him and Sawamura in ganging up on Kenma and Glasses to get them to eat more food, chats with the Karasuno third years, drags Yamamato away from the younger Karasuno manager when he nervously tries to offer her a meat-and-vegetable skewer (“Work on your style first, Yamamoto; I’m not letting you embarrass Nekoma like this.”), has silly little eating competitions with some of the Shinzen players, discusses the upcoming prelimaries with Goura, and finally, manages to pry himself from the chaos for a while and finds a quieter spot to sit in the shade a little bit away.  
  
Sawamura joins him, flopping down unceremoniously beside him.  
  
“Three wins,” says Sawamura with a sigh, stretching his limbs out over the grass ( _arms, arms, arms, arms, arms_ , chants Kuroo’s brain). “More than sixty defeats. That’s got to be a record, right?”  
  
“Well…”  
  
Sawamura grins. “You don’t need to feel sorry for us.”  
  
“Yeah, it was definitely a record. But if it helps, you’re probably the most gracious non-winner I’ve ever met.”  
  
“Non-winner?”  
  
“Well, it doesn’t feel right calling you a loser.”  
  
When Sawamura doesn’t reply, Kuroo looks at him to see him staring back and looking surprised. They both look away quickly.  
  
“Thanks,” is all Sawamura says.  
  
They stay like that in silence for a while, watching the other players and their various antics. It’s hard to tell whether it’s a comfortable silence or not; Sawamura’s presence is nice as usual, but Kuroo feels a little stifled, and he knows the exact reason for it.  
  
“By the way,” says Sawamura at last, “thanks—again. For helping Tsukishima and Hinata train, I mean. We really appreciate that.”  
  
“Oh, that? Nah, it was all them. They did it themselves,” says Kuroo with a shrug. Sawamura sits up, and their elbows are _almost_ touching, but Kuroo stays stock-still, keeping that tiny bit of distance that he finds himself too afraid to close.  
  
“Yeah, but you guys gave them that extra push that they really needed, especially Tsukishima.” Sawamura scratches his neck absently as he collects his thoughts. “Maybe it’s because we’re more familiar with Tsukishima, that he feels more comfortable turning us down. But with you and Bokuto being pushier–”  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
“–in a good way.” Sawamura grins at him. “You both took him out of his comfort zone, which was something that I think he really needed. So… yeah, thank you.”  
  
Kuroo rests his chin against his arms, watches Inuoka chase Lev for stealing his piece of corncob, tries to suppress that warmth in his chest. “It’s nothing to thank us for.”  
  
“You say that now,” says Sawamura, and his grin turns a little mischievous, “but once we finally beat you in a match thanks to Tsukishima’s blocking–”  
  
Kuroo snorts with laughter. “You think the student will surpass the teacher? Try us, Sawamura. We’re ready for you.”  
  
“I’m counting on that. We’ve all been dreaming about a rematch even since you guys came up to Miyagi.”  
  
“Miyagi,” Kuroo repeats after a pause, quietly now. “It wasn’t all that long ago, was it? It feels like ages, though…”  
  
“Does it?”  
  
“It does to me.”  
  
They exchange glances, then hurriedly look away _again_. Kuroo’s chest feels a little tight, his breath a little short, his throat a little dry. Kenma’s words are running through his head: _if you keep hesitating, who knows when you’ll get a chance to say something?_  
  
“Hopefully,” Kuroo manages to say, “it won’t be long before we can have another match.”  
  
“Yeah,” says Sawamura softly. “Hopefully.”  
  
_If you keep hesitating–_  
  
Kuroo leans towards him just a tiny bit so that their arms are finally touching. It’s still tiringly hot and humid, even with the shade, but Sawamura relaxes and leans towards him too, just a little, and they sit like that for a long time, just watching their teammates and friends run around and chat to each other carefreely, just watching the world go by.  
  
The silence is less stifled. There are still so many things yet unsaid... but for the moment, it’s just the two of them, and it’s all they need.

 

 

* * *

 

  
Later that day, the Karasuno players’ and staffs’ bags and luggages had been loaded onto their bus, and see-you-laters are being said. Ukai-san, Takeda-sensei, Sawamura, and Sugawara are thanking Nekomata-sensei once again for his invitation to join the training camp, and he waves them down happily. When the adults disperse, Sugawara and Sawamura talk quietly to each other, but when Sugawara looks up to see Kuroo approach them, he cuffs Sawamura over the shoulder with a grin, and quickly darts away to his friend’s surprise. Subtle.  
  
“Hey,” says Kuroo, and Sawamura starts and turns around.  
  
“Kuroo!” he exclaims. “I was wondering where you were. Thanks again for everything.”  
  
“I… yeah. Yeah, sure. I mean, it was fun.”  
  
Sawamura looks briefly concerned. “Are you okay?” he asks.  
  
“Uh. I’m…”  
  
_Hesitating_.  
  
The words die in Kuroo’s throat. He opens his mouth to speak, closes it, opens it again.  
  
“Kuroo? Are you–”  
  
“Skytree,” says Kuroo abruptly, and Sawamura looks surprised. “Let’s go see it. When your team comes here for the Nationals, I mean.”  
  
“That’s… I’m–”  
  
“It’s usually really busy, but it’s worth it. You can see the whole city, and it’s really amazing, especially when it’s all lit up at night.” Kuroo is blabbering, and he can’t stop. There’s something clawing at him from inside his chest, something he desperately wants to let out but isn’t quite ready to. “When you get here for the Nationals, it’ll be Spring, which is always amazing, or you could, I dunno, come over during Christmas or something? But I mean, the view looks nice no matter what season, but there’s something really special about it in the winter time, so…” Kuroo makes a vague gesture with his hand, still refusing to look Sawamura in the eye. He turns away from him. “Aaahh, forget it, we’re all gonna be busy training for the Nationals anyway, so maybe not, I don’t– I mean, I’m just–“  
  
“Hey.”  
  
Despite himself, Kuroo throws an uncertain look over his shoulder. Sawamura smiles at him—good-natured, warm, genuine; Kuroo thinks about it often.  
  
“The next time we come up here will be for the Nationals,” says Sawamura, “and then you’ll take me to go see the Skytree.”  
  
There’s a lot that Kuroo wants to say in response, but the words aren’t forming right. He also has a funny feeling that Sawamura knows exactly what he wants to say, probably even reciprocates it word-for-word, but…  
  
But him and Sawamura standing here, like this, making this promise (to each other)… yeah, it was enough for now.  
  
“It’s a promise,” says Kuroo, feeling more at ease than he had in a while, and he smiles too.  
  
They shake hands in a captain-ly sort of manner. There’s nothing lingering, it’s nothing more than a simple handshake, and frankly, it’s perfect.  
  
“See you soon,” they say in unison.  
  
Somewhere nearby, Ukai-san is calling for Sawamura. They grin at each other again and hurry to join their respective teams—Sawamura and his group shuffle towards their bus as he throws one more look behind him and catches Kuroo’s eye. Kuroo falls into step beside Kenma, who gives him a meaningful glance that Kuroo just gives a little shrug at. It’s chaos all around them; yelling and laughing and cheering (and crying from Karasuno’s younger manager), and there’s a sort of nostalgia in it all, the kind that came along with the end of summer of any year.  
  
The training camps ended too soon, Kuroo thinks as he watches Karasuno’s bus pull out of the school grounds… but the future can’t quite get here fast enough.

 

 

* * *

 

  
  
The view of Tokyo at night from the Skytree is even more beautiful than Kuroo remembers.

 

 

* * *

 


End file.
